


Tragic Backstory Unlocked!

by theloverneverleaves



Series: No Capes! [2]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Alternate Universe - The Incredibles Fusion, Gen, Magnus' backstory, Minor Character Death, Minor Violence, Self-Discovery, also bonus maia, ft. his parents and his best friend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-10
Updated: 2017-08-10
Packaged: 2018-12-13 17:51:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11765214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theloverneverleaves/pseuds/theloverneverleaves
Summary: Just who is Magnus Bane? The new CEO of Bane Industries is as enigmatic as he is handsome, so it's only natural someone wants an interview and a cover story.Little does the poor journalist know there's far more to his story than meets the eye. And maybe a relation to that guy Warlock that's been saving the city so much….aka. how superhero magnus became a goddamn superhero





	Tragic Backstory Unlocked!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [magnusragnor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/magnusragnor/gifts).



> Written for my darling Elle who has been asking me to continue this series since forever. This probably isn't what you had in mind but I hope you like it!!! Happy Birthday love xoxo
> 
> As always, you can find me at [isabellebiwoods](http://isabellebiwoods.tumblr.com/) for all your gay Shadowhunters content

The sun poured in his office window as he sat, sipping a coffee, watching the city of New York rush on by. Magnus had never liked this building, never liked what it stood for. But he was trying to change that. He was trying to change a lot of things in a lot of ways.

It was lucky that someone had noticed.

“So, Mr Bane,” the journalist began, and Magnus turned from the view, offering her a genuine smile.

“Magnus, please.”

She seemed startled at the suggestion and Magnus wondered what she'd been expecting. He hadn't done a lot of interviews since his father's demise.

Maybe everyone walked into this office expecting to see Asmodeus Bane's heir. He'd need to fix that too.

“In the few months since you became CEO of this company, you've made quite a few changes. It's fair to say there are a lot of people wondering who you are. To most of the world, it's like you appeared out of nowhere.”

“If you call Indonesia nowhere, then I suppose that's true,” Magnus conceded, and the journalist smiled softly.

“You grew up there?”

“Until I was nine.”

“Why don't you tell me a bit about it?”

 

* * *

 

The rain thundered down onto the thin roof as Magnus sat in his room. The bedsheets were pulled up over his head, but his face still glowed. Unlike most children who read books under the covers, though, Magnus didn’t have an illicit copy of anything to hand. He didn’t even have a torch.

Just his hands, and the little blue sparks floating above his palms.

It had started a few days ago, completely and utterly by accident. He'd been darting through the streets and hadn't quite looked both ways like his mother had always taught him. Magnus would always swear the car had appeared out of nowhere, as if by magic.

Maybe the car wasn't magic, but it was magic that had saved him.

At least, that was what he called it, privately. In these moments in the dead of night, hidden under his covers, he called it magic, the blue sparkle around his fingers that had stopped a moving car. He had no idea what to do with any of it yet, but he knew if he focused really hard he could will the sparks to life. He'd made his pencil move across the desk a few times. Nothing more, though.

Stopping cars, it seemed, was a special occasion. Something he wouldn't learn to do on command until much, much later.

Just as he began to will the sparks to move in slow, lazy patterns, the door to his room creaked noisily as his mother pushed her head around it to check on him. Magnus jumped, sheet falling and pooling in his lap.

The thing about the magic was it seemed to have a will of its own. It took ages to coax out sometimes, but once it was out it didn't want to go away.

Sadly, this seemed to be one of those times where it didn't want to go away.

Fisting his hands behind his back, he turned to his mother with a brilliant smile, willing the magic away.

“Hi, Mama,” he said, a picture of innocence. She frowned a little, moving into the room and pushing the door shut behind her.

“Magnus? What have you got there?”

“What? Nothing,” he responded far too quickly, budging away on the bed. She sighed at him, nodding into the middle distance.

“It's glowing,” she said plainly. Oh. Damn. “Come on, sweetie, just show me.”

Magnus sighed as she sat down on the bed beside him, waiting patiently. He loved his mother, more than anything in the world. He'd do _anything_ for her. He even put up with his lousy stepfather for her, a man he couldn't understand why she'd married. He never seemed to have any time or patience for her or Magnus. In fact, he only seemed to care about himself and having a pretty wife to take to his work parties.

But this wasn't his stepfather asking. It was his mother. And if he couldn't trust her with this, if he couldn't talk to her of all people, who was he going to tell?

So, Magnus closed his eyes and slowly withdrew his hands, placing them in his lap, palms up. In the dark, he ignored the sparks he could still feel at his fingertips, and instead focused on the feeling of his mother's hands ever so gently taking his, her fingers examining the edges of his palms.

There was a long, gaping silence and then…

“Is this what you've been afraid to tell me?”

Magnus squinted, cracking his eyes open a little to catch a glimpse of his mother's face. She didn't look angry as he might have expected, or afraid. She just looked… sad, somehow.

He opened his eyes fully, gaze immediately dropping to his palms and the tiny blue sparks tracing lazy circles across his skin. Like fish in a pond, he thought idly.

“I didn't know what you'd say,” he admitted. “I thought you'd be mad at me.”

“Oh, Magnus. Did you do anything wrong?” she asked gently and he immediately shook his head violently, like a dog trying to shake a flea.

“No! I just… it just _happened._ There was a car and then -” He noticed his mother's horrified expression and flushed. “Maybe I should have looked,” he mumbled under his breath.

Rather than focus on that point, Magnus threw himself into her lap, tiny arms wrapping around his mother's waist even as she pulled him closer, fingers gently combing his hair.

“I'm always going to be here for you, Magnus. No matter what,” she promised. Magnus nodded, noticing the sparks had finally died, his mind well distracted by something entirely more important.

“I love you, Mama,” Magnus spoke into her leg, and she smiled, unseen.

“I love you more.”

“I love you most.”

 

* * *

 

“It sounds like you were very close to your mother,” the journalist said. She had no idea.

“I was. When she died I was devastated.”

His mother had been the only one who knew about his powers. She'd been his rock, his support through everything. He'd loved her so much, relied on her for so much. And then she'd been gone, and he'd been alone.

It was one of the singularly worst times of his life.

“But you still had your stepfather,” the journalist nudged, and Magnus smiled bitterly.

“He had very little interest in me. I was never abused, but I was never really cared for either. When my father got in touch about taking me out of Indonesia, he couldn't have been happier to get rid of me.”

Magnus hadn't known who the mysterious figure offering him a way out was at the time, but it had been too good a chance to pass up.

He'd left in a heartbeat and never looked back.

“And then you went to boarding school in England?”

“You've done your research,” Magnus commended, and she smiled softly. “It was a completely different world for me. I spent most of my time there, until I turned eighteen. But I met some wonderful people. I wouldn't trade that for anything.”

 

* * *

 

The forest outside of the school smelled alive. It was the only way for Magnus to describe it, that green freshness of a rain just passed. He'd known he was heading to an entirely different universe when he had left Indonesia for the colder, greyer shores of England. But he didn't think he'd ever get used to how _green_ it all was, and in a way that home never had been.

Although he supposed this was home now. Indonesia had stopped being home when his mother died.

“Magnus, I still don't know why on earth we need to be out here. It's six am, and it's _cold_ ,” Ragnor complained loudly.

“Sssh. Just, give me a minute,” he asked, pulling off his jacket and throwing it into Ragnor's arms. Ragnor looked down at the coat in his arms, and then back up at Magnus.

“Is this a trap because you got a C in your English tutorial?”

Magnus rolled his eyes. It was how they'd met. Despite being a few years older, Ragnor had been the only person Magnus had really connected with in his English class. Ragnor wasn't a classmate though, rather a tutor. Apparently the teachers were fond of Ragnor as well, enough to trust him to give advice in a junior class.

“Would I ever do that to you?” Magnus asked, a faux scandalised tone hanging to every word.

“There's very little you _wouldn't_ do,” he commented dryly. Magnus shrugged, conceding the point. He was certainly the more adventurous of the two.

It was Magnus who threw wild, illicit parties in the dorms. It was Magnus who got caught on the roof with Madeline Brightwater in a rather compromising position, Magnus who made a habit of gossiping with the teachers instead of actually listening to their lessons.

For the hallowed halls of an English boarding school, Magnus was a wild child. But money talked around these parts, and his father was apparently loaded. A fact he certainly hadn't realised in Indonesia.

Not that it mattered. He'd hardly spent any time with the man, and he certainly didn't want his money. In fact, the only reason he'd acquiesced to boarding school at all was because at the time, moving thousands of miles away to some fancy school sounded far more attractive than suffering another second with his stepfather and sole remaining guardian in Indonesia.

He still stood by that. Age had not changed Magnus’ opinion on the fact that his stepfather was indeed an asshole.

“Look, this is serious,” Magnus went with instead, choosing a different path. “I've… I've never shown anyone this so… just… sssh.”

Ragnor took the hint, quickly falling silent and folding the jacket over his arm. Magnus inhaled deeply, taking a firm stance in the middle of the trees.

And then, he let go.

Those familiar blue sparks rose from his palms, taking shape and reaching in long, spiraling tendrils towards the trees. Magnus let his eyes drift up, and then slowly _pulled_ , the tree branches starting to bend towards him.

What he hadn't accounted for was the wildlife. Birds tended to love the woods behind the school, and it wasn't unusual to find nests in the trees. The bend of the tree had managed to dislodge one such nest, sending it hurtling downwards. As the bird's nest fell, Magnus moved his hands, quickly guiding his powers and then pushing up, watching carefully as the nest was lifted back into the tree. A little imperfect, but passable.

After a moment, Magnus let the tree go altogether, and exhaled. It always took him by surprise how much his powers drained him, the physical toll it took as well as the mental. Maybe that was why his powers were mostly used for parlour tricks and easy things. Picking a lock took a lot less effort than moving a whole tree.

But then, he also knew what made the better and more dramatic demonstration.

Pausing for a moment, Magnus adjusted his shirt idly before turning back to Ragnor, steeling himself for whatever that reaction may be. Magnus had never willingly told anyone about his abilities. In all his life, his mother had been the only person to know, and she'd taken that secret to her grave.

Mostly, Magnus was afraid. There were stories of people like him in the world, people with powers. Not all of them were good. He didn't know who he was yet, or what he wanted to do with any of this. Just wanted to _be_.

So a secret it stayed, until he somehow worked out why he had these powers and what to do with them.

The surprise on Ragnor's face did little to quell Magnus’ worries, so rather than focus on it he shrugged, trying to cover his nerves with a wry smile. “Surprise?” he offered, as if it was a birthday party and not the revelation of one of the most important parts of his identity.

Ragnor stepped closer, eyes darting over Magnus curiously. “Is that… telekinesis? The blue makes it interesting, but, at its core… and the _eyes_.”

“You're not…afraid?” Magnus offered quietly.

“Magnus, I would _never_ be afraid of you.”

In that moment, Magnus doubted if he'd ever have a truer friend in his life.

“What have you been doing for practice? You _are_ practicing, aren't you?”

“Not… precisely,’ Magnus conceded. Ragnor shook his head lightly.

“How is this any different to your essay writing? If you don't practice, you'll never learn.” Ragnor unfolded Magnus’ jacket, holding it out for him. “Come on. We have a lot to talk about, and apparently a lesson plan to make.”

Magnus smiled, taking his jacket back and shrugging it on. He nodded softly, feeling far more hopeful than he had in years.

“Okay.”

 

* * *

 

“After school it seems like everything turned into a dream for you. Admission to Columbia, a degree in Advanced Theoretical Physics, a stint running your own lab out of Brooklyn before inheriting your father’s company last year.”

“It wasn’t all perfect,” Magnus promised her. “There were plenty of bumps and bruises along the way.”

Catarina would vouch for that, from all the good sewing work she’d had to put into his shoulder last night. That and a sturdy lecture as to why falling on iron rebar was a very bad thing he absolutely shouldn’t repeat.

As if he _meant_ to fall into that pile of rubble at a construction site. It wasn’t his fault the forces of evil always seemed to choose abandoned warehouses to do their crime in.

“But still, you made it,” the journalist assured him. “It must have been hard, losing your father as well, though. You must miss him.”

“It’s hard to miss someone you never really knew. Between my schooling and this business, we never had a lot of time for each other. I’m just sorry we never got to take that chance.”

 

* * *

 

“Leave. And never come back,” Magnus said coldly, standing over the broken form of his father, who was slowly coughing, spitting blood onto the floor. He knew he should feel something, feel some sort of guilt about all this, but all he felt was relief.

He had all the answers he’d wanted, the ones he’d studied for years to find. Where his powers came from, why this had happened to _him._ His father. It was always leading back to his father. A man who could manipulate the minds of those around him, a man who’d turned _everyone_ in Magnus’ life against him just so he’d need him. Ragnor, Catarina, Raphael… he’d lost them all. His father had left him with Camille Belcourt for company.

But then, he’d introduced the two of them. Of course it suited him. Camille was as clever and vicious as Asmodeus was, and almost as rich.

He knew he should regret the fact that it had come to this, that he’d thrown his own father against a wall with the powers _he_ had given him. But Asmodeus was just a sick man with nothing other than his own gain on his mind. He hadn’t brought Magnus to England out of any sort of affection. It had been to keep an eye on him, to see if he had any powers he could _use_.

It had been his father who’d bribed Magnus his way into Columbia, just so he could keep an eye on him. His _father_ …

The man laughed weakly, pushing himself up from the floor but failing. A broken leg meant Asmodeus was in no shape for moving. Finally, a situation he couldn't run from. “Magnus, please,” he simpered softly. “You can’t stop me. This is my kingdom, and I always get what I want.”

“You think I don’t know what I’m doing? I have _friends_ , friends that you haven’t turned against me. A court might not ever be able to find you guilty, but I have enough material at home to tear down this kingdom brick by brick. So _leave_ ,” Magnus hissed. “Go and find some remote island far, far away from here. Sip a margarita and enjoy the sun. It’s more than you deserve, after the damage you’ve inflicted on this city.”

“Don’t be naive, Magnus,” he insisted. “You think I’m the enemy, but who do you think holds the worst parts of this city in check? New York is mine to command. Without me? This place will burn. All its demons will crawl out of the woodwork and it’ll have no one to protect it.”

Magnus paused. It wasn’t as if he didn’t have the whole picture by now. In addition to running the largest technology company for miles, Asmodeus Bane also ran the majority of the criminal underworld in the city. If he told it to behave, it would. Taking him away would remove that leadership. But cut off the head of the Hydra and three more would grow back. There was no telling how bad things might get.

But this was _his_ problem. He’d have to do something. He’d have to fix what his father had broke.

“It’ll have me.”

Asmodeus chuckled dryly, shaking his head. “Oh, Magnus. I had so many plans for you. But you’re such a… disappointment. Just like your mother.”

That was what did it for him. He lashed out, not even a conscious thought as his powers exploded from his body, and the lab seemed to erupt in flames, the spark of his magic setting the chemicals alight. The entire area Asmodeus was standing in burst into a ring of fire, and Magnus looked over his shoulder.

He’d have to make a sharp exit. He was a lot of things, but fireproof wasn’t one of them.

Turning on his heel, Magnus began to make for the door, but not before his father cried out. “Magnus! You can’t just leave me here to die! You’ll spend the rest of your life regretting it, killing your own _father_.”

Magnus looked over his shoulder at the man crumpled up on the ground, the man that had caused _years_ of pain and suffering and heartache in his life. Every relationship he’d had, every friendship, every choice he’d made for himself, all manipulated and shaped by this man. For his own gain, his own power. And then he thought of the people who really loved him. Catarina, Raphael… Ragnor, who’d been more like family to him than Asmodeus ever had.

“No. I won’t.”

They’d finally be free. His family would finally be free of the influence of a madman.

He didn’t regret it for a moment.

 

* * *

 

“So tragic, that research lab having a fire just as your father was visiting. It seemed everyone else escaped alive.”

“A freak accident. Or so they told me,” Magnus said solemnly. He was just lucky his father had never bothered to write him out of the will. Things would have been a lot more tricky if he’d left his multi billion dollar corporation to someone else. But then, Magnus had a feeling that Asmodeus Bane had never been expecting his own demise, and certainly not at the hands of his only son.

“But this is your company now,” the journalist continued, clearly keen to get away from talk of such morbid details. “I’d be interested to hear what you have planned for it.”

Magnus smiled, getting to his feet. “Come on, let me show you.”

Green energy, accessible, affordable tech for the masses and life saving innovation sounded like much more palatable subjects to Magnus, anyway. The journalist smiled, delighted with the offer. And she looked no less delighted an hour later, when she finally left the building with everything she needed for her piece, or so she promised.

Magnus leaned back against the wall of the elevator, pushing the button for his floor. It was never easy, taking such a cavalier whistlestop tour of his life, but it seemed to be a necessary evil of his new position. He’d had so much pain, so much loss, so many letdowns.

But maybe the joys he had were all the sweeter for that pain. He was in a good place, now. He had the influence to change the world, the power to change fate and a group of people around him that loved him well enough to stand with him, no matter what. He couldn’t ask for more. He shouldn’t ask for more.

Apart from maybe a good scotch and a better night out.

The elevator doors slid open, and Magnus walked out, down the hallway and to the left before swiping his access card and heading downstairs. The lights were on, which was probably a good sign. As he reached the bottom step, a pretty girl with a familiar face span around, smiling at him.

“Hey, Magnus,” she said. “How was the interview?”

“Maia, dear, it was the same as every other one,” he replied, tugging off his suit jacket. “What have you got for me?”

“Luke sent a message. Robbery in progress on 6th and West 45th. But he says he can handle it.”

“He _always_ says he can handle it,” Magnus reminded her, moving over to stand at her shoulder, looking over the screen. “Anyone else around?”

“Raphael is already en route,” she told him, a picture of professionalism. “He still hasn’t picked a name yet. Simon keeps calling him Lugosi until he does.”

“I’m sure he loves that,” Magnus chuckled softly. “Okay. Let’s do this. This city won’t save itself.”

“Where would we be without Warlock to save the day?” she said, smiling.

“In a very dull place indeed. I’ll check in with you en route, Overwatch.”

Maia nodded, and Magnus moved through to the back of the area, out of the computer lab, and into the storage facility. The thing about owning a multi billion dollar tech firm, was that it was really easy to set up and hide your superhero base in the middle of the city. It was the greatest gift his father could have given him.

Magnus reached over for one of the lockers, opening it up. He reached out, running his hands down the blue leather jacket Ragnor had designed for him. He smiled wryly.

No, this city wouldn’t save itself. But thankfully, it didn’t have to.


End file.
